


Harry Grey

by hiddenoptimist



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: D/s relationship, F/M, Humiliation, Requested, Sex Toys, Spanking, Watersports, involves the other boys briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela is One Direction's newest stylist, and she knows the rumours that Harry Styles is a womaniser are just not true. But when he unexpectedly offers to own her, she's more than obliged to say yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Grey

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by the lovely Angela! Anyone who has requested a one shot, I will get to it eventually. I've been a bit busy at the moment.

"Harry! Stay still!"

Harry grinned, brushing his hair out of his face. Angela, the band’s new stylist, was trying to brush foundation over his cheeks. Harry, having been spurred on by Louis, was wriggling around and wiping the make-up off his face quicker than she could put it on again. He loved teasing Angela; it was almost as fun as teasing Lou.

Angela was only nineteen and, technically, she was only an apprentice. She’d been with them now for about a month and since then, Harry hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her curvy figure. She was very short, not even five foot, and that had been the beginning of the teasing.

Harry stood up as she brushed over his nose. Now towering over her, he grinned as he placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.

"Not fair," she said simply. "Sit down."

"Make me," he replied.

"Harry Styles, don’t you dare make me get Paul."

He smirked. Seeing her pissed off and so short had given him an idea. He knew full well that she wouldn’t hesitate to contact Paul, and he would make him sit still, completely ruining his fun. His smirk grew when he realised his plan had a chance of succeeding.

"Harry-"

Angela was cut off as Harry bent down and kissed her. Her hands found his chest, ready to push him off, but he gathered up her wrists with one hand which looked monstrously huge next to hers. Angela pulled away, glaring at Harry. He held her gaze with dark green eyes.

"What was that?" she asked, voice shaking.

"That was me asking if you wanted to be mine," Harry replied. "Your answer?" She didn’t say anything. "I have conditions, of course, and it’ll be worth your while."

"This is way too much  _Fifty Shades of Grey_  for me,” Angela muttered.

"It’s not like that, I promise. Just me and you, enjoying ourselves."

Angela bit her lip. “Will you sit still for me?”

Harry chuckled. “Of course.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Harry grinned and sat down again. “It won’t be a normal relationship.”

"I don’t care," she replied, picking up her brush again.

"Fine. Meet me here after the show. We’ll go to your house and you can pack a bag."

Angela paused. “Why?”

"Well, you’ll be living with me from now on. I did say it wasn’t a normal relationship."  
***  
Angela’s heart thudded in her chest as she waited in the darkened room for Harry. The rest of the entourage had left to sort out the van and she didn’t dare turn on the lights in case she was called to work. She paced anxiously, wondering whether agreeing to Harry’s request had been smart. He hadn’t told her what was in store, and what exactly did ‘conditions’ mean?

The door opened behind her and she whirled around, heart fluttering in her throat. Harry chuckled and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Did I scare you?" he asked.

She shook her head. “No,” she replied, too fast.

He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”

They made small talk on the way to Angela’s flat. She noticed he seemed genuinely interested, unlike her previous dates. Harry sat patiently in her living room as she packed her bag and tried to calm herself. When she announced she was ready, Harry took her bag and her hand, complimenting her flat on the way out.

Harry unlocked the door to his house and stepped back, letting Angela in first. He led her up the stairs into his bedroom and handed her bag back to her.

"Unpack. You can put your stuff in these drawers here. Come down when you’re finished, we need to talk before anything else."

Harry left her alone. Angela watched him go, then opened her bag and slowly began unpacking. She was even more nervous now than she’d been before. Harry’s bed was big, a four poster with a twist. There were no drapes, and the posts looked as though something could be slid between them. As she put her things away, she cast anxious glances back at the bed.

Once she’d finished, she ventured downstairs. Harry was sitting on the couch, running his hands over a square box. The room was lit by scented candles, spreading the smell of honey throughout the ground floor. He looked up and smiled as Angela entered, patting the seat beside him in invitation.

"We need to agree on some things," he said, reaching over to take her hand. "You joked earlier about  _Fifty Shades of Grey_ , but you’re closer than you realise. If you want to leave now, that’s fine, but after you agree, you can’t just walk out. You’ll have a safe word and I won’t do anything I think you can’t take. Nobody else’ll know but us. You will have to wear this though.”

He opened the box. Inside, on a satin cushion, lay a thin black leather band. It was buckled together at the back and there was a small metal loop at the front, and Angela realised with a start that Harry was asking her to wear a collar.

"In public?" she whispered, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks.

"It looks like a choker necklace, nobody will know," he promised. "What do you say?"

He held the box closer, as an offering. Angela looked uncertainly at him, then reached out to touch the leather. It was surprisingly soft, and it didn’t look as though it would fasten tight enough to choke her. Harry’s hand covered hers and he looked at her, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "Okay."

Harry brightened, smiling like a child on Christmas. “Really?”

"Really."

He took the collar out of the box then stopped. “Before we start, is there anything you definitely won’t do?”

Angela thought about it, then shrugged. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Harry smiled. “My favourite kind of person. Turn around.”

His fingers deftly unfastened the collar. Angela held her hair out of the way as he laid the leather against her skin, buckling it so that it was tight enough for her to feel every time she swallowed, but not tight enough to choke her by accident. He made sure by slipping two fingers between the collar and her skin.

Angela reached up to drift a finger over the leather. Harry fitted his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek.

"I’ll explain the rest of the rules in the morning," he said softly. "For now, let’s just get some rest."

***

Angela woke to an empty bed. She rolled over, her hand reaching up to touch the collar around her neck. Last night had been unexpected, to say the least. Harry had told her to sleep naked, and they’d lain together, exploring each other’s bodies with gentle touches and soft kisses.

Now, she got up and looked around for a robe or something. She didn’t want to dress right away, but she also didn’t want to go down for breakfast nude. After a thorough search of the room, she settled on Harry’s t-shirt from yesterday. It was long enough that it feel to her knees and she felt slightly better for the covering.

Downstairs, Harry was cooking breakfast naked, singing quietly to himself. Angela stopped in the doorway, playing with the hem of the shirt and wondering whether to announce herself. She was considering leaving when she knocked against the door and it creaked on its hinges.

Harry looked round to her and frowned. “As lovely as you look in my clothes, you have a strict no-clothes-in-the-house rule. So get it off.”

Angela stared at him wide-eyed. “What?”

"No clothes in the house. If I have to repeat it again, it’ll be a punishment, and I don’t want to have to punish you this early on."

Startled, she pulled off his t-shirt and hung it over the back of one of the chairs sat around the table. Harry beamed, loading the pancakes he’d been making onto two plates. Angela pulled out a chair and was about to sit down, her mouth watering from the delicious smell, when Harry stopped her.

"You have to earn your breakfast," he told her, leaning against the worktop. "How good are you are sucking cock?"

Her eyes raked down his body until they reached his hard cock. She’d seen it last night, seen how big it was, but it hadn’t been quite as big when it was soft. He beckoned to her with one finger and she stepped forward nervously.

"Don’t be scared, I don’t bite," he soothed. "Just kneel down and take your time. But you don’t get to eat until I cum, and if I don’t, you don’t get breakfast."

Angela swallowed heavily and knelt down in front of Harry. His cock bounced as he stretched his back against the counter and she felt a little intimidated. This would most likely be the first of many degrading acts he’d get her to perform, and she knew she’d be better off sucking it up - literally.

Taking a deep breath, she reached up and grasped his dick with one hand, steadying herself against his thigh with the other. She knelt up, reaching over to envelop the head of his cock with her mouth, sucking lightly while beginning to move her hand. Harry watched, his expression almost innocent as she took more of him down, relaxing her throat so as not to gag. She wanted to impress, not to throw up and scare him away.

Harry’s hand touched the back of her head when she had taken in all she thought she could manage. He wanted her to go deeper, but she knew that she’d choke. Nevertheless, she was getting hungry. She pulled off and licked around the head for a moment before sliding almost all the way down. Her eyes watered and her gag reflex kicked in, forcing her to pull off him and cough violently. Vaguely, she heard Harry sigh.

He crouched down next to her and rubbed her back, soothing her through the coughing fit. Angela was sure she’d puke, but - to her relief - she didn’t. Wiping at her eyes, she looked at Harry shamefully.

"It’s okay," he said, running his hand down her back. "We’ll work on it. But you don’t get breakfast."

With that, he got up and emptied her plate onto his, carrying it over to the table. Angela stayed where she was, unsure of what to do. Harry ate in silence for a moment, then pulled out the seat next to him.

"We need to talk about the rules," he said, as she sat down. "First of all, no clothes in the house, and I’ll pick your outfits when we go out. You can’t tell anybody. I can film you and take pictures if I want to. You have to do what I say, or I’ll punish you. If you think I’ve pushed you too far, you can use your safe word, which is… Alaska. You’ll call me Master or Sir when we’re at home. I’ll train you later on, but just now is about getting you comfortable."

Angela nodded, staring at her hands beneath the table. That was a lot to remember, especially considering the consequence for forgetting was a punishment.

"Eventually, you’ll get daily discipline, but that might be a bit much just now," Harry continued. "You’ll ask me before you do anything, including cumming. If you disobey me in public, I will punish you in public, so don’t think you can get away with it. I think that’s it." He finished his meal and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Let’s go shower."

There were two bathrooms in Harry’s house. He took Angela to the upstairs one. It had two doors: one leading to the hall and the other to his bedroom. He started the shower and stepped in, taking Angela in with him. As the water heated up around them, he had her kneel down in front of him.

He wrapped a hand around his dick and wanked himself slowly, his other hand curled in Angela’s hair, keeping her face exposed. When he finally came, his cum splattered over her cheekbones and dripped onto her shoulders. Satisfied, Harry helped her up and helped her wash, sliding an arm around her waist and kissing her passionately for the first time.

Harry wrapped her in a large towel and helped her out, keeping a hand on her back as she stepped onto the cool tiles. He followed, pulling another towel from the rack and drying himself.

"Do we have anything on today?" he asked, looking up at her.

For a moment, it’s almost as though they’ve just spent the night together, two friends with benefits, and they’re equal in this relationship. She can imagine them going out for dinner, coming back to Harry’s place full of giggles and kisses, dropping onto the bed and letting one thing lead to another. She’d wake up the next morning and get ready to leave, but he’d convince her to stay for breakfast. They’d shower together, and maybe have another go at it, talk about work and wonder if they’re supposed to be somewhere.

But then Angela swallowed, and felt the collar press against her throat.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, not brave enough to call him ‘Master’ yet. "It’s a photoshoot."

"Good," Harry nods. "Go and clean the dishes, will you? Come back up here when you’re done."

Angela nodded mutely, quickly drying herself and hanging the towel over the rack again. She hurried downstairs and cleaned the small amount of dishes sitting by the sink. It only took five minutes, and then she was on her way back upstairs, anxious to see what Harry had laid out for her.

He was waiting for her on the bed. Laid out over the sheets were her clothes for the day: a simple pair of black jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Angela was furious; he was picking out what she should wear now? What gave him the right? She relaxed a little when she saw the panties and bra lying over the jeans. As she reached for them, Harry stopped her.

"Bend over," he ordered. "Hands on the bed."

She did as he said, wondering what he was about to do. She felt his weight lift off the bed and heard him approach her from behind. One of his fingers slipped into her pussy and she gasped, rocking back against his touch. He fingered her until she was wet, then pulled out, leaving her clenching around nothing. His fingers found her clit and pinched it, before pressing something small and round against it. A small piece of tape secured it in place and then his touch was gone.

"You can get dressed now," Harry said, stepping away.

Angela dressed quickly, turning to him when she was ready. He smiled, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt as the pad of his thumb rolled over her nipple. She squeaked in surprised and he laughed, expecting her to follow as he left the room.

The journey to the location of the photoshoot was eventful, to say the least. The little circular device pressed against her clit when Angela sat down and she found herself wondering what it was. Harry drove with his hand on her thigh and she merely glanced at him when he removed it halfway through the trip.

She shot him a shocked look when the device began buzzing deliciously against her clit. He’d taped a  _vibrator_  to her. Harry’s only acknowledgement of her outrage was a small smile as he drove, one hand deep in his pocket where Angela presumed the remote was hidden. She’d never get it, she knew that.

He’d turned the vibe off by the time they’d reached the studio. Harry held Angela’s door open for her and offered a hand to help her out. He kept hold of her as they made their way into the building, only letting go once they were in the midst of the crowd of people. The rest of the boys were already there, getting changed as Angela entered the room, ready to do her job. They greeted her with hugs, a gesture that didn’t seem so innocent to Harry.

As she opened her bag to fish out what she needed, the vibe began to buzz against her skin again. Her eyes dropped closed and her lips parted slightly, before she remembered where she was. Shooting an irritated glance at Harry - he was watching her curiously from his chair - she got to work on Liam.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, giggling as she wafted her brush over his nose.

"Good. You?" She was becoming used to the vibrations and was glad to hear her voice wasn’t trembling.

"Like a baby. I almost didn’t get up this morning."

They chatted casually until Angela felt the vibrations speed up. She froze, her breath hitching in her voice. Liam frowned, resting his hands on her waist.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rubbing little circles into her hips with his thumbs.

"Fine," she squeaked, pushing him away from her. "Just have a… headache."

"Maybe you should go home and get some rest?"

She shook her head quickly. “No, I’m fine. Just stay still so I can finish, please.”

He looked puzzled, but remained as still as he could until she’d finished. With a quick kiss to her cheek, Liam left with Zayn. Angela bit her lip when a large hand touched her hip.

"You’re the jealous type?" she asked quietly.

Harry chuckled and she felt the vibrations increase. “You didn’t know? Meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes.”

He left her standing in the middle of the room, brush still in hand, legs trembling. Her panties were wet, she could feel the cold stickiness brushing against her thighs when she moved. Biting her lip and trying not to give it away as she walked, she turned to Louis to help him with his hair.

"This is new," he said, tugging on her collar. "Didn’t know you were into chokers."

"It’s a new obsession," Angela shrugged nervously. "Just got it yesterday, actually."

"You suit it." He grinned and ducked his head as she sprayed his quiff with hairspray. The first time she’d helped them get ready, they’d been mischievous and wouldn’t stand still. Louis had ended up swallowing most of the hairspray she’d tried to cover his hair with.

Louis bounced off towards the studio once she’d finished with him, passing Harry in the doorway. Harry glanced at Angela then headed towards the bathroom down the corridor. Angela glanced around nervously, before following him into the men’s bathroom.

"Jeans and t-shirt off and get over the urinal," he ordered, refusing to look at her.

"What if someone walks in?" Angela asked, nervous. There were more men on the crew and she knew that meant there was a greater chance of them being caught than if they’d been in the women’s toilets.

"Jeans and t-shirt off and over the urinal," he repeated, fiercer this time.

Angela swallowed but did as he said, leaving her clothes crumpled on the floor. The urinal Harry pointed her to was stained and smelled like piss with faint undertones of bleach. She made a face, but pressed her hands on the wall, spreading her legs. Harry stepped up behind her, roughly rubbing his palm against her panties.

"You’re soaking," he chuckled darkly. "Have I really been teasing you this much, pet? Or are you a slut?"

Angela whimpered. Harry’s words accompanied with the everlasting vibration were turning her on more than she’d ever thought was possible. Worse still was the humiliation of Harry’s hand between her legs; he could feel her getting wetter.

He laughed, as though he could read her thoughts. “Like that, do you? Tell me this: are you a slut for me, or just a slut?”

Angela moaned as his hand slipped down the back of her panties, rolling over her clit gently. He pulled down her panties, leaving them at her knees to slightly hobble her. She heard the zip of his jeans and gasped as his cock slid between her thighs, brushing against her pussy.

"Definitely just a slut," Harry decided, slowly thrusting between her legs. The friction was sending delicious sparks of pleasure through Angela’s body. "A slut in a bathroom. Don’t you know what happens to sluts in bathrooms?"

The head of his cock touched the small of her back and Angela gaped as something warm and wet hit her skin. He was  _pissing_  on her. His piss trickled down her back, over her ass and between her legs, creating a surprisingly pleasant sensation. Angela snapped her mouth shut before a moan could escape. She didn’t want him to know she was enjoying this, and any noise might attract unwanted attention.

Harry had known what he was doing and had evidently positioned her right, as his piss dripped into the urinal, the occasional drop hitting the floor or running down her leg and dampening her panties further. Her face flushed red when she heard the click of the camera on his iPhone. When Harry was finished, he slid his cock back between her legs, turning the vibe up a level.

"I’m going to leave you now," he murmured in her ear, his cock rubbing against her clit. "You’re going to clean yourself up and get back out there to help. You are not allowed to cum under any circumstances or I’ll punish you. Do you understand?"

Angela nodded, her cheeks flaming red. She was to be left with this infuriating pleasure source taped between her legs and threatened with what she doubtlessly knew to be pain if she were to give in. Harry’s fingers slipped under her collar and he tugged hard.

"Use your words, Angela," he said, voice calm despite the force of the pressure on her throat.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, her eyes falling closed.

"Good. Now you’d better get back to work, hadn’t you?"

He stepped away from her. The fabric of his jeans rustled as he pulled them up and fastened them again, keeping a careful eye on Angela’s trembling figure as he did so. Once he was ready, he brushed a light hand over her back and left the bathroom, the door swinging shut loudly behind him.

Angela slowly peeled herself from the wall and searched the nearest cubicle for toilet paper. After drying herself off - the smell still clung to her skin, though she hoped the hairspray would cover it before anyone noticed - she dressed again, tensing as the vibe was dialled up to what she desperately hoped was the highest level. She was never going to survive the next hour, let alone the rest of the day.

When she emerged from the bathroom and wandered back into the studio, the boys had just finished their first shoot. There were four in total, and each one required a complete outfit change. Angela took Niall and held his clothes for him as he changed, her legs quivering as Harry played with the remote. He kept it clutched in one hand as he changed, hiding it from the sight of anyone else. Every time he changed the speed, Angela would shift uncomfortably and he would cough to cover a laugh.

The boys had just finished their third shoot and Angela was alone in the next room. The rest of the boys’ team had gone for coffee and biscuits, but Angela had declined. All five of the boys stumbled through the door, laughing loudly amongst themselves. Louis was teasing Harry about something he’d said during the last shoot when Zayn slid his hands around the youngest’s waist, delving playfully into his pockets.

"What’s this?" Zayn asked, pulling out the little pink remote.

Harry tried to snatch it away from him, but Zayn pulled away quickly. “Give that back,” he snapped.

"Why should I?" Zayn asked. "Maybe we want to play with whatever it is."

Harry lunged at him, but the remote was tossed to Louis just in time. The eldest grinned when he realised what it was.

"Really, Harry? I mean, I knew you were kinky, but wearing a butt plug to a photoshoot? Have you been playing with this all day? You naughty boy. Or is it a vibrating cock ring?" Louis smirked, his thumb running over the rubber buttons. "What happens if I do this?"

He pressed a button at random and Angela had to clamp her hand to her lips as the vibrations increased. She was glad she was facing away from the boys and her presumably bright red cheeks were hidden from them. Her thighs clenched together tightly, stopping her orgasm but increasing the vibrations.

Harry hadn’t moved. Louis pursed his lips, thinking.

"You’ve not got anything," he decided, pacing around the youngest. "Someone else does. And it’s not one of us. So who is it?"

The vibrations increased and Angela broke. She hurried for the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible, and only just made it inside the door before she came, biting her lip to silence herself. Before the door swung shut, she heard Louis’ gasp of disbelief.

"You’re fucking  _Angela_?”

***

The journey home from the photoshoot was made in silence. Angela had hidden in the bathroom for the remaining hour and a half, too humiliated to emerge in front of the boys. The rest of the crew had come to investigate her disappearance and she'd feigned illness. When Harry stood at the open door wordlessly, she'd locked herself in a cubicle. She couldn't face him, not like that. Not with her punishment hanging between them.

They reached Harry's house and he got out, closing the door harshly behind him. She waited until he was up the path, then meekly followed, slipping out of the car silently. The thought of running away crossed her mind, but she dismissed it almost immediately. She instinctively knew he'd catch her, and her punishment would be more severe.

Harry shut the door firmly behind her as she entered. He shot her a pointed look and it took her a moment to remember the no clothes rule. She folded her clothes and left them on the bottom stair, cringing as she laid her soaking panties on top, like a trophy for him to show off to any guests. It would be the first thing they saw upon entering the house. Angela hovered indecisively, casting glances up the stairs to the bedroom, where Harry had gone. He was waiting for her up there, she knew it. Finally, with a defeated sigh, she began to climb the stairs. They felt like a mountain beneath her feet.

Harry was waiting in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up as she entered, beckoning her to sit beside him. She perched on the edge of the bed nervously, flinching when he rested his hand on her thigh.

"Angela," he said slowly, "I told you not to cum. It wasn't fully your fault, because I didn't think Louis would get his hands on the remote." The touch of a scowl crossed his face. "But I'm sorry about that. It was almost a punishment in itself, though I'm still going to spank you because you still came when I told you not to. Lie over my lap."

Angela swallowed nervously, but crawled over his lap. Harry's large hand stroked over her backside, gently pinching the skin in places. She closed her eyes and waited for the first blow. When he finally struck her skin, her first thought was  _That wasn't so bad_. The second smack was harder, bringing a red handprint to the surface of her skin. She hissed through her teeth and clutched the bedsheets beneath her palms.

Harry aimed his hits so his hand smacked the same place each time. Angela was soon overcome by the pain and ashamed to find herself sobbing into the bedsheets. Harry stopped, easily lifting her to sit on his lap, making sure her bum was over the side of his lap. He held her tightly to his chest, stroking her hair gently.

"You're okay," he whispered. "I forgive you. This was just a reminder not to disobey me. You don't cum until I give you permission, okay?" Angela nodded through her tears. "Good, good. You know, all the boys agreed it was a really sexy idea. I bet they'll all be wanking to the thought of you tonight. What do you say to a nice drink and a film, yeah?"

She nodded again, wiping her eyes. As Harry laid her gently on the bed, she had the sudden desire to cover up, that he shouldn't see her like this. She curled up, tugging the silk sheets over her. When Harry returned ten minutes later, she wouldn't let him pull down the duvet.

"Come on, baby, let me see," he sighed. "It's okay, I know you're upset. I had to teach you though. Look, I have some tea for you, and we can cuddle and watch a film."

Slowly, Angela let the covers be tugged down her body. Harry smiled encouragingly and slipped into the bed next to her. He held out one arm and she cuddled up to his side, taking the mug of tea which warmed her hands. Harry found a mindless comedy to cheer her up, slipping his hand beneath her when she began to shift uncomfortably and keeping her slightly above the bedsheets. He watched her reactions to the film, smiling each time the flicker of a grin crossed her features.

When the film was over, Angela rolled away from Harry, fully expecting him to turn out the lights. Instead, he chuckled and reached for her waist.

"Where do you think you're going, hmm?" he asked teasingly. She rolled over to face him and quirked and eyebrow. "I was hoping we could do something other than sleep."

He pulled her across the bed, kneeling above her. One of his hands slipped between her legs, rolling her clit beneath the pad of his thumb as he leaned down to kiss her. She was surprisingly eager, finding herself more responsive to his touch than she'd ever been before.

Harry played with her clit and gently fingered her until she was wet. He reached over to the night table and pulled a condom from the drawer. Ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it over his dick and lowered his head to suck on her nipples.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice lower than she'd ever heard it before.

Angela nodded without hesitation. Harry kissed her reassuringly and gently pressed into her, going slow until their hips were pressed together. He smiled, reaching up to brush her hair away from her eyes.

"Fast or slow?" he murmured, gently rolling his hips.

"Slow," she replied. His little movements were already sparking small gasps from her.

Harry kept true to his word and moved slowly, alternating between massaging her breasts and playing with her clit with one hand, holding himself up with the other. Angela reached up to kiss his chest, gently biting and sucking like she normally would. She was surprised when Harry pushed her away.

"You don't get to mark me," he said firmly, "but I get to mark you."

His lips dropped to her throat, working on leaving a sign of his possession on her skin. She clutched weakly at his sides as she neared her climax, but held it back as best she could. Harry smirked in her ear.

"You can cum, baby," he murmured, holding her hips down to the bed and beginning to speed up.

He fucked her through her orgasm, letting her go limp in his arms. When he reached his, he pressed his forehead into her shoulder and shouted, stilling his hips as he stained the condom. Gently, their heavy breaths on each other's faces, they separated, Harry catching and tying the condom. He propped himself up and threw the condom in the general direction of the bin. He missed.

Angela giggled as he groaned and went to pick it up. When he returned to the bed, lanky body folding neatly under the sheets beside her, and held her close, she traced his chest tattoos mindlessly.

"Rough first day," Harry whispered, watching her concentrate on moving her fingers  _just_  right. Angela nodded in agreement, though really she considered it to be an understatement. "It does get better, I promise."

She believed him.


End file.
